Saving Moriarty
by moriartyswife
Summary: There's a line between being someone's wife and being Jim Moriarty's wife. It's been 14 years and I haven't thought about how much I missed my freedom. I gave up everything to become his. I'm Melanie Moriarty. Here's my story. (Rated T for safety measures. There are some trigger things in some chapters.)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I paced back and forth inside the flat. I should just leave it. There's no need to deliver it personally. It's not like they will care to meet me. I fiddled with the file in my hand. I could leave it on the desk with a note maybe. Oh god, why was I doing this to myself? The sound of the door opening told me that I was too late to change my mind.

"Sherlock, are you even listening to me? You can't do that to people" John protested. I heard them ascending the stairs. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale. You can do this. He trusted you to do this. I smoothed down my shirt and tucked a stray black strand of hair behind my ear. Deep breaths.

"He was an idiot, John." Sherlock's voice argued. The door slammed open causing me to jump. Sherlock stormed into the room, collapsing into his chair, seemingly not noticing me in the room.

"For god's sake—who are you? How did you get in here?" John asked. He reached around, pulling a gun from his waistband. I quickly held up my hands, as if that would stop the flight of a bullet. My breaths became strained.

"No…um…I'm sorry…I just—" My brain couldn't force out any complete sentences. I hadn't been told that this was dangerous. Oh geez. I don't want to be shot.

"Relax, John. The woman is about to have a panic attack. She's unarmed. You have something for me, I assume." Sherlock replied.

"She broke into your flat." John protested, lowering the gun a little.

"Please don't shoot me." I forced out. _Don't beg, my dear._ I couldn't shut out the tiny voice.

"And she waited for us to leave to do so. Really, John. Does she look very threatening? Now, what is it you have for me?" Sherlock stood, facing me.

"I…a list. I have a list of names… a partial list." I rambled. Sherlock snatched it out of my hand and flipped it open.

"A partial list of what?" John asked.

"Some of Jim's contacts. Well…people who worked for him. Not part of his network that you disbanded but just… others… I should be going." I bent down to retrieve my purse, effectively dumping everything out of it and knocking over a stack of papers. I tried to catch them but it was too late. "Oh…I'm so…I'm such an idiot."

"How do you have a list of Moriarty's contacts?" John had put the gun away and strode over to assist me. I stacked the papers back as best I could. I needed to get out. I wasn't supposed to talk to them this much. Deliver the file to Sherlock and leave. That's what he said.

"Obvious." Sherlock muttered.

"Right. I'll just…" I stuffed all my things back into my purse and stood, brushing my hair back. I made a beeline for the door. I got halfway down the stairs before I heard Sherlock continue.

"She's Moriarty's wife, John. Didn't you see the ring?" Sherlock asked.

As I exited the flat, the cold air felt good on my skin. That had gone better than I expected, besides the fact that I made a complete fool of myself. I shouldn't care but I did. _Moriarty's wife, John_, Sherlock's voice echoed. I tried to get a cab but none would stop. With a heavy sigh, I decided to walk home. Could I have embarrassed myself anymore? No wonder Jim didn't take me out to meet people.

I opened the door to my flat and flipped on the light switch. I set down my purse and slipped off my coat. The window was slightly cracked and I could see a light in the living room. That could only mean one thing.

"Did he take it?" Jim's voice floated to me. I quietly treaded into the living room, seeing him sitting on the black, leather chair typing away on his phone.

"Yes. He also knew who I was." I replied. He flashed a grin.

"Good, good. He doesn't know I'm alive either then." Jim continued. I twisted my hands, the nerves returning.

"No. Do you want some tea? Or something to eat? I'm not sure what I have…we could order take-away—" I rambled on. Jim rose from the chair, clad in one of his expensive suits. He made me feel much underdressed in my jeans and flowery blouse.

"I can't stay, dear. I've got a flight to catch." He said.

"You're leaving?" I must've looked like a deer in headlights. Jim walked over, brushing my hair back and smiling.

"I've got business to attend to. Don't worry; I'll be back for you."

"What am I to do while you're gone?" I asked. Since we got married, I rarely had any free time to myself. Always with Jim, doing something for him.

"Whatever you like. I've left you a credit card. But do buy yourself some new clothes. Only brand names will do." Jim said. He had a light tone but I knew he wanted it done. He wouldn't be happy when he returned if I hadn't. I'd spent enough time around him to know that he gets what he wants, no matter what.

"I can do that. Thank you." I smiled. Jim kissed my cheek and said a quick goodbye before leaving. The second the door closed I collapsed on the couch. Time to myself? I didn't think that was possible. Besides, even though Jim isn't here, I had a feeling he'd be watching me. He has connections everywhere.

Against my better judgment, I picked up the card on the table. Melanie Moriarty. I'd received everything Jim owned since he's suicide. I knew he had a fancy flat somewhere in London and god knows where else in the world but I'd never wanted a big flat and for a while, Jim didn't care simply because he was always on the go. I dialed the number to my real estate agent.

"Hello. I'd like to put my flat up for sell." I said. No sooner had I hung up, my phone dinged.

I've only just left- JM

I've decided to upgrade. I think you'll approve.-MM

You know me too well-JM

A moment passed before my phone dinged again.

And stay away from Sherlock Holmes.-JM

Even through a text, he could sound terrifying. Besides, I'd be too busy "Upgrading" to deal with anything else. I had thought once before that I could get out of this marriage with Jim but I had been wrong. I learned to accept it and make the most of it. He wasn't the most loving person. Honestly I'd never heard him say he loved me. But he was kind to me. I'd never had to work and I always got everything I could ever want. Except freedom. I'd never be free.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It had taken a full week to pick out a new flat and another week to move in all of the things from my old flat into this one. It was in the high class side of London and had four levels in total. I fell in love with it when I found there was a small library room. I had to buy clothes as Jim wanted but in return he was going to stock my library. It wasn't like I didn't have the money for it. No matter what I purchased; it would barely put a dent in the amount in the account.

I could have hired people to unload everything for me but I didn't know how long Jim would be gone. I spend my days unpacking and my nights shopping online for clothes and books. Once I had situated most of the furniture and unpacked all the dishes and décor, I had more free time. The things I had ordered came in every few days but it wouldn't take but a few hours to put it all away.

A month after I'd moved in, I decided to go out shopping for the first time. I needed the fresh air. There were multiple balconies in the flat but there's just something about walking around the streets of London. I bought a few things at various outlets before going inside the store that sold Westwood suits.

The store had two levels and I don't think I'd ever seen so many clothes in one place. I wandered around for a bit, looking at all the suits. Jim had a lot of these. I realized I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't know how to shop for clothes to match these suits.

"Can I help you?" A woman asked. Her name tag read Jennifer and her face looked like she was about to ask me to leave. At the moment, I didn't look like I belonged in here. I mean, I didn't look like a bum but I had on a plain peach colored dress with white lace leggings and peach colored flats.

"Oh…uh, my husband owns a lot of these suits. I'm looking for some things that will go together with them." I replied. Jennifer broke out into a huge smile. She took ahold of my arm.

"Well your husband must have good taste. Come with me. I've already got some outfits in mind." Jennifer took me back to the dressing room.

The next two hours consisted of me trying on dresses, and jeans with different tops along with different shoes and accessories. It's more exhausting than unpacking. Jennifer went to ring up all my things while I changed back into my peach dress. Making my way up to the register, I ran into a lady.

"I'm so sorry!" We both said in unison. Taking a better look, I recognized her. Molly…something. Jim had pretended to date her to get close to Sherlock. I remember the complaints about her. He could have said she looked like a toad and I still would have been jealous.

"Are you alright?" Molly asked.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'd better be going." I mumbled. I turned to see Mary standing behind me. Mary Morstan. I'd met her before.

"Melanie?" Mary asked. She was holding a Westwood suit in her hands. An ugly one at that. Probably for John. I think Jim said they got married.

"Hello, Mary." I replied, forcing a smile. She leaned in, giving me a quick hug.

"You look well. I'm just here picking up this for John. He needs a new suit." Mary said. I took pity on her. Despite the fact that I wanted nothing more than to leave, I decided to help her.

"That's not the one you should get. It's too dark. A lighter brown would go better. Something like this." I went and picked up another suit, holding it out to her. Mary smiled, taking it from me.

"I guess you are the expert." Mary commented. I averted my eyes to the floor. I nodded and walked up to the register. Mary said it was good to see me and I returned the polite gesture. I pulled out my wallet and handed Jennifer my card. On the floor sat six huge bags next to my four small bags that I had brought in with me.

"If you'll just sign here. Do you need some help getting these to a cab?" She asked as I scribbled my name on the receipt. I'd spent over 4,000 pounds.

"I'll be helping her out today." Sherlock's voice came from behind me. I froze. I tried to grab all of my bags but Sherlock beat me to it. He had all six bags in his hands. I picked up the remaining four.

"That's really not necessary. I can…manage." I had to take twice as many steps to keep up with his long strides and try to keep my balance at the same time. Mary had to have called him. She only spoke to me to stall me, most likely.

"Nonsense. It's approximately a fifteen minute walk to your new flat. You wouldn't make it four blocks with all these bags. A cab isn't an option. You obviously don't like them." Sherlock stated and slowed his pace.

"How do you know where I live?" I asked. I hadn't even changed my address on any of the postage.

"It's my job." Sherlock looked down at me. "It puzzles me that Moriarty would marry…."

"Someone like me?" I finished. Sherlock gave a curt nod. That was a little rude.

"You're extremely clumsy and you have social anxiety. As far as beauty goes, you are above average but I doubt that would have made a difference to Moriarty." Did he just call me pretty? I didn't know that he was capable of such a comment.

"You must not know Jim as well as you thought you did." I replied.

"I know how he thinks and I did some research on you. You were a smart kid, top of your class even though you graduated early. You were accepted into Oxford at age 17 but declined and married Moriarty instead. I find it hard to believe that you'd throw away your future for marriage." Sherlock said. He'd researched me? That's a little terrifying. My past was supposed to be hidden. Jim didn't like certain information getting out.

"Well you don't know me either. If you'll just give those bags to the doorman, you can be on your way." I ordered. My voice came out a little shaky. I never liked to boss people around. As I turned to go inside, Sherlock grabbed my arm.

"Does the name Carl Powers mean anything to you?" My whole body tensed up. He couldn't know about that.

"No" I forced out.

"We both know you do. Tell me about him." Sherlock said. I tore my arm loose from his grip.

"Don't ever touch me again." I said. I walked inside the building and took the slow elevator up to the flat. My heart raced. Once inside, I bolt locked the door. Relax, Melanie. He doesn't know. Jim promised you that you'd be safe. Has he ever gone back on his word? It'll be fine.

Going into my bedroom, I noted the rose and note on the bed. I set down my things and treaded over. Smelling the rose, I read the note.

My Dear Melanie,

I've got business to attend to.

Relax in the Jacuzzi for a bit and when I return I'm going to treat you to dinner.

You've done well with the upgrading.

See you soon,

JM

Jacuzzi? I followed the trail of rose petals into the bathroom. The whole thing had been redone. I'd only been gone half the day. Only Jim could get this done in that amount of time. The Jacuzzi had already been filled and had the most expensive bottle of that aroma soap sitting beside it. I felt of the water, the perfect temperature. I could hear Chopin softly playing over the speakers. I poured the soap into the water, allowing it turn into bubbles.

I undressed and got in. I didn't realize how stressed and tense I'd been feeling but it all melted away. The soothing aroma of the soap and my favorite classical composer was enough to almost put me to sleep. Oddly enough, the water remained this temperature the whole time I was laying there.

With my eyes closed and my concentration focused on the music, I didn't hear someone walk in the room. It was only when I felt someone kiss my forehead that I cracked open my eyes. Jim stood up straight, a slight smile on his face.

"I hate to disturb your moment of bliss. We have reservations in an hour." Jim said. I reluctantly got out, wrapping a towel around me. Walking into my closet, I sifted through the clothes, settling on a dark blue, high neck, sleeveless, sheer dress. I put on a light layer of makeup and ran a straightener through my hair. I sighed, staring at myself in the mirror.

"You look lovely." Jim said from behind me. I watched him through the mirror as he approached me. He slipped a necklace around my neck. "I found this while I was away."

"It's beautiful. Thank you." I replied. Jim offered me his arm and escorted me out of the flat. As usual there was a sleek black limo waiting outside. What Sherlock had said still lingered in my mid. I was sure there would be a conversation about it. I was out on a date with my husband for the first time since he'd faked his death. There was nowhere else I wanted to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dinner went by without a hitch. We went to some fancy restaurant with a French name that I couldn't pronounce. My nerves were gradually growing. He hadn't once mentioned Sherlock and that's what terrified me. He silently got into the limo, instructing the driver on where to go. He typed a message on his phone then stuck it into the pocket of his suit.

"Did you have a nice chat with Sherlock today?" Jim asked, turning to look at me. A chill went through my body.

"I didn't really chat. He did." I mumbled. My voice was slowly losing strength. I averted my eyes to the floor. This was going south. I could feel it.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you." Jim ordered. I hated being so compliant sometimes but I knew how he could be. "Did you speak to him?" I nodded. "Did I specifically tell you that you weren't to do so?"

"Jim, I barely said anything. Most of it consisted of telling him to leave me alone." I replied. I also hated it when he treated me like a child.

"Answer the question." He demanded, grabbing my chin. _Apologize, _my mind screamed. The old Melanie sparked inside me.

"It wasn't my fault. You're overreacting. Don't touch me." The words flew out before I could stop them. If that wasn't enough, I shoved him away from me. Turning to look out the window, I noticed the limo had stopped moving.

I knew this warehouse. I knew the man standing by the black sedan, smoking a cigarette. Jim got out of the limo and walked around to my side. Fear spread over my body like ice. Sebastian Moran dropped his cigarette and came over as well. Jim exchanged a few words with him before heading toward the building.

"Get out." Sebastian said, holding the door open. I couldn't get my body to move. I might as well have been sitting in a tar pit. Sebastian grabbed fistful of my hair and jerked me out of the limo. I scrapped my knees on the pavement. "I enjoy when you resist, Melanie."

Sebastian kept a firm grip on my hair and drug me behind him. I couldn't stand up straight and it was extremely hard to keep from stumbling on the entire walk inside. Memories of this place flooded over me. My heart began to beat faster.

Sebastian took me down a flight of stairs, making sure to hit my head on the railing a few times. In the basement, he shoved me into the chair in the center of the room. He tied the straps around my wrists, pulling them extra tight. He bent and did the same with my ankles.

"You're my favorite of Jim's pets." Sebastian started. He picked up a syringe on the table. He strolled back over to me. "I mean, you're the only one with restraints. Like I can't cut into your pretty face or use half the tools I normally enjoy. But I do get to use this." He held up the syringe.

I started to panic. I wanted to run but the tight straps reminded me that I was trapped. Squirming around, I watched as Sebastian's smirk turned into a wide grin. He took out his box of cigarettes and lit one. He blew out a puff smoke. My eyes turned back to the syringe and my breathing hitched.

"Good, you do remember." Sebastian knelt in front of me. He set the syringe between my thighs and took a hold of the hem of my dress. "It's tempting." He jerked. "You being tethered to this chair." And again. "The things I could do to this petite little body. How I could make you scream for me to stop." With the third jerk, he ripped through the thick hem of the dress.

I knew better than to beg. Jim hated it and Sebastian got off on it. He stopped ripping my dress when he uncovered my abdomen. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and smiled again. I tried to shut out the pain like I used to. I tried to retreat inside myself. His laugh struck my body to the very core. He enjoyed this and it made me sick.

"Not even a small protest? Scream, Melanie. For me?" He pressed the cigarette on top of my thigh. I let out a muffled scream, biting my lip to keep the rest inside. "Better." He leaned in, taking in a deep breath. "I can smell the fear radiating off your body. Now," He picked up the syringe. "This will only hurt for a moment, but you'll be out of it for a while. Be a good girl and hold still."

I couldn't. Of course I didn't want to be drugged but I hated needles. Not only that, this drug would cause me to black out. I would be awake for every bit of what Sebastian had planned but I wouldn't remember it when the drugs wore off. Bits and pieces would come in spurts but some of it may never return.

"It's a higher dose than you're used to. Jim ordered an 80 mg instead of your usual 40." Sebastian stuck the short needle into the abdominal muscle. The liquid Ketamine iced through my body and I gradually became less aware of my surroundings.

I had flashes of Sebastian. I saw Jim saying something to me I couldn't hear. I sat up with heaviness in my body. I couldn't completely feel my body but the concrete floor was cold. The drug still had a few hours before I would be completely able to comprehend everything. The light from the door being opened told me where I was.

"You're awake. Good. We can have a short chat." Jim spoke, striding over to me. "Stand up."

I forced myself to my feet. I wobbled, unable to stand completely upright. A second later, I fell back onto the floor. The room spun. If you could call it a room. It was more like a closet.

"Very well." Jim crouched in front of me. He took a hold of my face with both hands. "What have you learned?"

My mind remained groggy and my mouth felt so dry I had force out an answer. It was the answer he wanted and the one I knew was absolutely true. "I'm yours."

"That's right." Jim replied. I could see the cold in his eyes. He wanted compliance in every way. "I can do whatever I please with you. I can give you everything you could ever desire or I can break you into a million pieces."

He leaned in to whisper the next part into my ear. "I **own** you, Melanie. Don't ever forget that, dear." Venom dripped from his voice. With that, Jim stood and walked to the door.

I tried to follow. I only got a foot further before I couldn't move forward anymore. My right arm had a shackle around it. I remembered this room. The room of my nightmares. The small dark hole that was shrouded in darkness not even the brightest light could penetrate. It could be completely silent and that was when it was the worst. I could feel how utterly alone I was. I was at the complete mercy of the ketamine drug.

The worst part of it was that I knew the voices weren't real but the whispers made me pull my knees up to my chest as close as possible. I covered my ears in attempt to block them out. How can you block out what isn't real?

"Go away. Go away." I mumbled. Louder and louder. The flashed of Sebastian's smirk and the knife he had in his hand in conjunction with the voices cause me to give in. I gave Sebastian exactly what he wanted. Sobs racked my entire body and I screamed. Over and over and over, wanting it to stop. But deep inside, I knew it never would.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_ I usually enjoyed the rain. It calmed me and it smelled like beauty. I loved the way it made patterns and beats as it hit the pavement. I tried to imagine each drop being in a different sound. A couple of students running past me broke my concentration. It inconvenienced me, having to walk over to the upper-class building where the tenth year began. I'm not sure why I complain anymore. I did this every day. My parents didn't like me to ride the bus so I had to ride home with my brother. _

_ I had my bright blue umbrella but it didn't help much against the wind. Normally my brother had football practice on the field behind the school but since it was pouring rain, I assumed they would be in the weight room. I entered the gymnasium where only a few students lingered._

_ "Melanie! What are you doing in here?" David jogged over to me. He played on my brother's varsity team, a fellow thirteenth year and four years ahead of me._

_ "I'm looking for Evan." I replied._

_ "You just missed him. He's taking Amy Fields out for a date. Good to see you." David continued on, meeting two other boys at the door before leaving. _

_ I sighed. Really? He couldn't have taken me home first or at least told me. Now I had to walk home in the harsh rain. I sat on the covered walkway, opening my copy of Daughter of the Forest by Juliet Marillier. If I had to wait for the rain to wane, I'd at least spend it reading a book I love. I only got a few pages in when someone stopped in front of me. Looking up, a boy in a school uniform stared at me with his hands in pockets._

_ "Juliet Marillier?" He said, an Irish accent catching my full attention. He smiled. "I enjoy her work. Is this your first time reading that?" _

_ "Uh, no. I'm waiting for her second book to come out." I replied. I stared at him for a moment. I recognized him and the accent. "Jim?"_

_ "I'm surprised it took you so long pigtails." He stretched his hand towards me. I took it, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I threw my arms around his neck._

_ "It's been six years! What happened to you?" I asked._

_ "We moved back to Ireland, boring family drama. Now I'm back. Are you waiting for your brother?" Jim asked. I rolled my eyes at the thought of my idiot brother. _

_ "No, he ditched me. I was waiting for the rain to calm before I walked home." I said. I picked up my backpack and umbrella._

_ "How about we go to that coffee shop down the street, catch up, then I'll walk you home." Jim offered his arm to me this time. I smiled and took it. We huddled together under my umbrella._

Massive headache. Sitting up on the cold concrete I rubbed my forehead. That had been the first time I'd had any feelings for Jim. It hadn't been my first encounter with him but that had been a time when I was too young to want anything to do with more than friendship. I noted that the door was open. I struggled to my feet, leaning one arm against the wall for support. The shackle had been removed. I could sort of remember what had happened. All I cared about was getting out of this place. I walked barefoot out of the room and up the stairs. I had to hold the bottom of my dress together.

I made my way to the main road. I had a vague idea of where I was. I slowly went down the streets of London, down-casting my gaze. I hadn't seen what I looked like but I could guess. My hair wrecked, my dress torn, and no shoes. A bruise or two wouldn't surprise me. To the bystanders, I probably looked like a prostitute who got in over her head.

Only a few people asked if I was alright. I addressed them with a weak smile and said that I was fine. It took over an hour to reach my destination. I knocked on the door and shivered. I hope someone is here. I'd walked all the way here and my flat would take ages to reach. I relaxed as the door opened. An older woman looked me over. She must be the landlady, Ms. Hudson.

"Hello, is Sherlock here?" I asked, quietly.

"Yes, he's upstairs." She answered, letting me inside. "But who are you?"

"I'm no one." I answered, smiling at her a bit. I climbed the stairs, each step aching my whole body. The flat door stood open and I could hear violin music. I waited in the doorway, entranced by the sound of the music. He set down the bow. "That was beautiful."

Sherlock turned to me. He simply stared at me for a moment. "Did Moriarty do that to you?"

"No." I flinched at the memory. While it was true that Jim didn't physically do it, he'd arranged for Sebastian to. Sherlock didn't believe me but he didn't comment either.

"I'll ring John. He can have a look at you." Sherlock said.

"You don't have to do that." I answered quietly. Sherlock stopped dialing on his phone. He rolled his eyes at me.

"Then why are you here?"

"I…I don't know. I don't have anywhere else."

"You're here for my help. So that means you'll be examined by Dr. Watson. You can shower while you wait. The bath is just through there." Sherlock answered for me. He pointed down the hallway as he put the phone to his ear. Then he turned his back to me, clearly done with the conversation.

I shut the bathroom door and turned to look at myself in the mirror. I barely recognized myself. I was only a glimpse of that girl that used to read fantasy novels and dreamed of being someone some day. _I own you_. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. The voice quieted.

Striping out of my ruined dress, I turned on the shower. The warm water relaxed my tense muscles. I cleared my mind, focusing on the feeling of the water hitting my skin and rolling off my body. If I listened carefully, I could imagine it as rain. I paid attention closely to only a few drops as they made a series of notes and melodies.

I abruptly rejoined reality at the sound of shouting. John had arrived and not alone. I figured Mary would come. She knew about this. She had been there once. I shut off the water and grabbed a towel. I internally cringed. I had no clothes. I'd have to go out there in a towel. I opened the curtain to step out. On the sink sat a neat pile of clothes and my old ones were gone. I smiled, putting on the sweat pants and baggy t-shirt. I returned to the main room.

"Ms. Hudson's niece left them here." Sherlock commented.

"It's perfect, very comfortable. Um…you really didn't have to come Dr. Watson." I brushed a strand of wet hair out of my face. Mary sat on the couch, refusing to look at me.

"Nonsense. Let's have a look at you. And call me John." He motioned back the way I had come.

"In here is fine." Sherlock complained.

"Patient confidentiality. Why don't you make some tea or order take away or something?" John shot back. He put his hand on my back and guided me down to a bedroom I assumed to be Sherlock's. John took his time, examining me well. He couldn't find much wrong with me. A few cigarette burns and a bruise on my collar bone.

"What happened here? Is that an injection mark?" John asked. He lifted the bottom of my shirt a little higher to get a better look. "Do you know what it was?"

"Ketamine. It should be out of my system by now." I replied. John cleaned the mark and put a bandage over it. We returned to the living room, John immediately reporting to Sherlock as I went to sit on the couch with Mary. John asked what I'd like to eat.

"I'm fine. I—"

"You have to eat." John argued.

"Really, it's not a big deal." I began again.

"If Jim had told you to, there'd be no argument." Mary said under her breath. John ordered something for me anyways and returned to his hushed conversation with Sherlock.

"You don't know anything about us." I whispered back, clutching onto my mug tightly.

"I know you allow him to do whatever he likes. If you're so unhappy with him, then divorce him." She said a little too loudly.

"I can't." I snapped. I clasped a hand over my mouth. That wasn't what I'd meant to say. Anything else would have been appropriate. John stepped toward me.

"There's loads of divorce lawyers if he won't sign a paper. We can help you—" John said. I shook my head. They didn't get it. There wasn't a lawyer or judge in the world that would take a case for our divorce.

"Tell us why you married him in the first place. You obviously love him and that's reason enough for you to not divorce but it's more than that." Sherlock spoke. He sunk into his black chair, keeping his eyes on me. I gave a curt nod. I had no reason to hide it. Jim didn't care if people knew why we'd married. If anything it gave them a reason to fear and respect him. John and Mary quieted as well, interested in story. I shakily sat down my mug on the table before folding my hands in my lap. It started with my brother, as did most of my memories back then…


End file.
